wavesofcresta:
Annie smiled, just trying to stay normal. she could hear voices behind her, and a part of her wanted to look and make sure they weren’t the tributes from her games. she knew, though, if she stole a glance, that she didn’t know what could happen. some of the people back there were tributes. would their uniforms be enough today? Annie never knew. so she refrained, keeping her eyes on Jules’s. Jules’s eyes held no bad memories. in fact, she had a way about her that made her likable. which of course was manufactured, but Annie didn’t know that.
even if she did, she might not have even cared.
“mostly.” she admitted, nodding. that was mostly why she didn’t hang around anywhere public. “I have… a viewing room. it’s all for me, and friends.” the only vewing room in the capitol, she was sure, with a TV that only played prereccorded movies. no games, just children’s films, knitting, and snacks. it was where she spent most of her time here during the games, and during pregames she spent most of it on four’s floor.
forget that Annie came here? oh, she wished she could. but it felt nice to be noticed, or to not have your presence there… change something. most people, she knew, probably blessed the moments she wasn’t in the room. it felt good to have someone who seemed to… care? almost? and they weren’t even friends, really. was this how it felt to be normal? “…thanks.” it felt good.
“That sounds lovely.” Jules says, and she means it. Part of her own allure is the constant access people had to her: magazines and websites and escorts were always demanding to see her, in videos from five, mentoring the games, the fallout of when her tributes died. They wanted to watch her always, spend The world seemed to love to watch. They’d never give her a room of her own.
Still no reason to be jealous of Annie Cresta. Jules had never seen one of the freakouts that were whispered about among the Victors, so she seemed more odd than crazy, anyhow. Like the strings inside of her had broken. Who could blame her? Those games were horrific, just two years after her own. Drowning would be a horrible way to die.
“Of course.” Jules responds, breezing past Annie’s pauses. “It really is nice to see you around, Annie. It’s always nice to have another face around.” In all honesty, she didn’t like most of the victors–she’s not good at making friends and even the kindest victors are too dangerous to consider friends. They’ve all killed innocents. Still, having Annie around just means there’s one less Victor that’s vying for power in the games the Capitol plays. One less player, only a pawn.
She shouldn’t ask about the games. From what she gathered, Annie didn’t do much as a mentor, and it’s not like Jules cared all too much. Still, what else did they have in common, besides the Games? They were complete strangers. “And your tributes? How are they doing?”









